


No Tissues Needed

by spacewhistler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:05:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4452353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacewhistler/pseuds/spacewhistler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The perks of foamed coffee</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Tissues Needed

"Stupid, bloody cheating wanker."

Hermione Granger was not accustomed to drinking coffee. She always had the fetish for tea and thought that coffee was too strong for her taste buds. She despised coffee ever since she got the first taste of it from her father's cup. Unfortunately, her father wanted it black and bitter that's why she spewed it all out after taking the first sip and cried on her father's shoulder, swearing that she'd never drink coffee ever again.

But today was an exception to all her beliefs. She was depressed, heartbroken and, most of all, angry; depressed, because she hadn't had a decent sleep in days; heartbroken, because of that sodding wanker boyfriend of hers of the name Ronald Bilius Weasley; and angry, because of her aforementioned boyfriend and his good-for-nothing model slut.

She groaned and took a sip from her coffee again. She winced at the bittersweet taste of it on her tongue but she didn't mind. She had more bitterness in her heart, anyway.

It has been three days since she broke everything up between them. She had planned to surprise him on his latest Quidditch match, making up for the lost time she dedicated for her job. She had been busy working on the law she'd been aching to be passed: the one for house-elf rights. It seemed like she hadn't gotten over her craze on freeing all the house elves enslaved by wizard families.

Ron knew she wasn't one for Quidditch. She never had the interest in the particular sport so she hadn't attended every game he played. She was guilty of that but she made an exception that day. But what she didn't expect was seeing her redhead boyfriend snogging the daylights out of a random woman after winning the said match. Oh, how fortunate for them that she had her mind in shambles and lacked coherent thoughts that day or else she had hexed them both to oblivion.

"Congratulations, Ronald Bilius Weasley. You just made my day," she had said, hoping bitterness and venom was oozing out of her tongue. The cake she had brought with her, supposedly for celebration, was then thrown at her shocked ex-boyfriend and his conquest's direction. She, with her dignity intact, went and slapped Ron's face and without a word, exited the players' tent. She didn't even mind the hollers and cheers of Ron's teammates.

He ran after her and tried to explain but she pretended he didn't exist. She was blinded by fury. And Merlin, help her, if he had kept pestering her after that day, she might've sent a Bludger to chase him until he could not play Quidditch again.

She glanced outside the coffee shop and heaved a deep sigh. She was not really an expert in the love department for Ron was her first and only boyfriend but there was one thing she learned from it: never to trust any man again.

She was aware that she was being hateful of the whole male population in general but people should spare her this moment for her heart has just been broken.

With a thumb and a forefinger, she held her cup of coffee daintily up to her lips as a tear escaped her cheek. She was devastated and this coffee just added to her nasty mood.

"Blasted coffee," she muttered, grimacing as she harshly set the cup back on its saucer on the table.

"Really, Granger? A coffee? You're angry with a cup of coffee? No one wanted to hear about your boring talks again, eh?" a familiar baritone voice drawled across her. She raised a delicate eyebrow at the same time she raised her head.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she asked, dully. She was always graced by the presence of the certain blond every day at her office in the Ministry of Magic. She was an Auror under Harry Potter as Head but since she was a War Heroine, she was somewhat of an assistant Head to her Hero of a best friend. Draco Malfoy, however, worked under Harry's orders and most of the time, he was commanded to send messages and other sorts of things from Harry to her. The former Slytherin hated being ordered by anyone but that was the least punishment that the Ministry could give him after participating in the opposing side of the War.

"Taking a break," he remarked in the same tone as hers. She gazed at him as he sat on the available chair across her on the table. "I presume this isn't occupied."

She waved a hand dismissively and then returned her gaze out the window. Malfoy took it as an affirmation so she heard him pull out the chair and sit. She had had enough of men for now. She could always pretend he was not there.

"I thought you didn't like coffee," was his comment after a few minutes of silence. She was baffled because he remembered that tiny and trivial fact about her when she knew he was not one of an observant.

She hid her shock with a disdainful smile in his direction, "I can change my preference anytime, can't I?"

He merely shrugged. She continued drinking, reverting her eyes away from the guy in front of her.

Malfoy, ever since he came to work alongside Harry, has been evading her thoughts in her spare time. His past time was popping into her office, most especially in crucial work hours, and annoying her with sarcastic yet witty annotations of everything under the sun. Really. Hermione often thought that his sole purpose in life was to vex her till she bled to death.

However, her days at work would not be complete without his daily visits and biting taunts. Because at the end of those stopovers, she would feel rejuvenated enough to resume her work. Long office hours tend to be boring, anyway, and an enlightening banter with her once-mortal-enemy-now-mere-acquaintance-and-officemate would be enough to bring her to her senses. She was grateful for him, but she would die first before she even told him that.

He called for a waiter and ordered a cup of coffee for himself, too. She stared at him inquiringly while he shrugged casually, "You looked like you needed company."

"I looked like what?" she asked him, nearly growling. Did she really look lonely as she drank here alone?

"You're clearly not having the best day of your life," he mentioned lightly as the waiter came back for his order. Before she could reply, he continued, "And besides, according to reliable sources, I am a good listener so, you could confide in me, if you wanted to."

"Who are these…" she snickered mockingly for a bit, "…reliable sources you speak of?"

He looked uncomfortable for a moment as he knotted his forehead. "Reliable sources are best not revealed."

"Oh, yes, sure," she jeered. "And why would you think I'd confide in you? Are we close? Are we even friends?"

"Well, here I was taking a shot in being considerate and you blow it all off. Thanks, Granger," he spat sarcastically. He then turned on a serious face and said, "Yes, I was offering you to confide in me. Because I thought we're sort-of friends now after my usual run-ins in your office. Does that ring a bell to you?"

She pondered about his statement for a moment and then started to talk. He started drinking his coffee when she stated, "Ron and I broke up. He was a cheating and lying bastard who seemed very daft to think that he could outsmart me. On the other hand, I think I was too stupid to not see the signs that he was slowly losing interest in me."

"You couldn't possibly blame yourself," he said. Hermione looked up and met his eyes of molten silver. Well, that was something she never thought he would say. It seemed like he was patronizing her. "He was an idiot for cheating on the brightest witch of the age for some brainless bimbo."

Hermione had to laugh at that even though his tone was one of mockery. It held some truth in it. He smirked at her reaction.

His reaction, on the other hand, bothered her much so she let her laugh fade but the shadow of her smile still playing on her lips.

She now admitted to herself that this man in front of her grew up with very pronounced handsome features. And these features were enhanced whenever he put on his infamous smirk. She fought the urge to wipe that smirk off his face in many unimaginable ways and resorted to drinking her coffee.

Her cup was now half-full and she could taste the bitterness slowly ebbing away from the drink. Maybe she was getting used to it. Maybe, like her coffee and its bitterness, she could also get used to the feeling of loneliness now that she was without Ronald Weasley.

Her faint smile was gone when she put down her coffee back on the table. However, she heard her companion stifling a laugh. She raised both of her eyebrows at him this time to wordlessly ask what his problem was but he let out a booming hearty guffaw.

"What?" she asked, slightly pouting.

He seemed to find some sort of amusement in her question for he laughed some more. A laughing Malfoy was a sight to behold. His pale face colored and glowed in mirth while his silver eyes lightened and misted with tears. Tears of mirth, she'd wager.

She stared at him as he clutched his stomach and went hysterical in laughing at her expense.  _He should really wear a sincere smile some more. It suited him._ She shook her head mentally. Now, where did that came from?

"You're such a kid sometimes, Granger," he said through his lark.

"Says the one who laughs for no reason," she bit back.

"No reason? Try looking in the mirror," he laughed again.

She paid heed to his advice and looked at her reflection on a teaspoon beside her saucer. There it was. The source of his laughter. There was coffee foam on her upper lip.

She scowled at him. "Really, Malfoy? How mature of you."

When he gave no response and continued to guffaw, she raised her hand to wipe the foam with the back of it. But Malfoy stopped laughing and stopped her hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked. She made no move to extricate her arm from his hold. It was rather comforting, really.

"I'm wiping your source of happiness, you dolt," she spat. Then he did something she never expected. Again. He smiled.

Her knees buckled, her toes curled, her arms weakened, and her whole soul melted, if that wasn't too much of an exaggeration. If she had a camera, she would've taken a photo of this rare occurrence. A smiling Malfoy was picture perfect, indeed.

She shook her head again and then made a move to remove her arm from his grasp. He held onto her tighter.

"What?" she asked, irritably.

"Let me," he whispered, almost mouthing the words in quietness. With her arm in his hold, he leaned over to her and kissed her lips.

Now that was another very rare occurrence. Draco  _sodding_ Malfoy kissed her! She had her eyes open and she could see his face very close to him, their lips connected. His eyes were closed, as if savoring the moment.

Out of impulse, she closed her eyes and let the feelings overwhelm her. Her officemates were not joking: he really was great and very experienced kisser. His lips were soft and gentle as it moved with her own. All the rumors were true. He was satisfied with the mere touching of lips and didn't delve in deeper. However, she felt his tongue dart out of his mouth and traced her upper lips with it, removing the foam in the process.

That brought her back from a haze and she jumped back from him, as far as she could in their position. She saw him open his eyes as a sweet and satisfied smile graced his lips again. He leaned back on his chair and folded his arms across his chest, his smile unwavering.

"W-Why did you do that?" she asked, mentally reprimanding herself for her stuttering. She sounded like a prude, and worse, un-Gryffindor-like.

He shrugged his shoulders. She frowned deeply. He sighed. She gave him a sarcastic smile. He threw up his hands in surrender. She raised an eyebrow.

"Decent people don't wipe their mouths with the back of their hands," he conceded.

"You could've let me used the tissues!" she exclaimed. It was preposterous. Why didn't she think of that earlier? The tissues were just a hand reach from her position. It lay there, unused, as if saying, 'The alternative was better, right?', although she couldn't be sure because inanimate objects don't really talk.

Oh no. She was rambling in her thoughts. That was a bad sign that her head was in complete mess.

"But dear, don't you see?" he asked, his smile still glued annoyingly on his smug face. He leaned over as if to repeat his earlier action and she leaned back away from him. "No tissues needed."

With that, he downed his coffee in one go, leaving a line of foam in his own upper lip. He smiled sweetly at her before striding away.

 _Oh, no,_ Hermione thought.  _I would get my revenge. And, as they say, revenge is always sweeter._

And as Hermione ran away from the coffee shop to catch up with the blond, thoughts of Ron on the trash bin of her mind, she made another rare occurrence, now in front of the whole wizarding world to see.

(Sigh) The perks of foamed coffee.


End file.
